


Dolya

by MarksOnBark



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Meet Magic, Minor Character Death, Polish Mythology, Skeptic Shane Madej, Supernatural Ryan Bergara, Witch Shane, copious amounts of Polish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-04-20 20:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarksOnBark/pseuds/MarksOnBark
Summary: Shane is unsure if he can continue blaming grief at this point. Sure grief can make you do crazy things. Quit your job, cut your hair, get a tattoo impulsively, pay too much money for mediums to pretend to tell you what your lost one has to say to you.It didn't usually entail the use of a "magic book" in the hopes of seeing the dearly departed one more time.





	1. Smutek

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a list shyanlibrary  posted  about things they wish were in more fics in this fandom. 
> 
> First I want to lay some things out real quick, when I found out Shane was slavic I latched onto that so hard as a Slavic-American (Poland and Belarus specifically). So a lot of the inter-family things come from my own experiences, including the insistent use of specific Polish words. Primarily, babcia. Babcia means "grandmother" in Polish, and is pronounced "Bab-chya" roughly.
> 
> Second, I am in no way trying to imply all Polish people are superstitious and believe in the things mentioned in this fic, but it's the culture I grew up with in my Polish family so it's what I'm drawing from.
> 
> Finally, Dolya is a slavic dual goddess of fate, primarily of Eastern slavic nations and Russia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title should mean 'grief'

Shane Madej did not believe in superstitions or anything of a supernatural nature. He didn't believe in witches, or magic, or demons, or ghosts.

That is to say, he did not believe in the things his mother and the rest of the women in his family believed in.

His mother said it was tradition from back in Poland, than her matrilineal line had always been with magic and gift. He thought it was nonsense of course, but there were some battles to fight and some to gracefully back down from. And trying to convince his mother that magic was bullshit wasn't worth the effort.

Of course he had tried, back in high school. He took off a "charm" she had given him ("Good luck," she had grinned, pressing it into his hand, "in friendship and in study. Make sure to wear it, ok?"), it was ultimately unobtrusive but it was a point to be made. He didn't need some charm to be good in school or socially.

She had cried the whole 36 hours he didn't wear it, if his babcia was to be believed. She swore up and down to him that he had broken his mothers heart by not wearing a simple charm for them. It didn't matter if he didn't believe in it, they did and it gave them peace of mind.

He had sighed and grumbled and made a big show of it, but he had the charm back on and his mother's smile returned.

Of course, he wasn't a child anymore. He was nearly 30, standing at the airport near Chicago to go back to Los Angeles and his job. From his babcia's funeral. He had flown out, of course he did, but he still felt numb.

His mother's smile is watery as she presses a kiss to his cheek and then the "travel" charm she gave him before he left for college. Taking a deep breath, she rummages into her purse, "Mom wanted you to have this, she told me before she passed... where is it... ah here we go!" Turning back to him, she presses a book wrapped in a scarf into his hands.

Without opening it he gives a wry smile, "Oh man, babcia's book on the complete history of cheese? Thanks mom, I've always wanted it!"

Her look is flat as she gently hits his shoulder, "You horrible child, you're killing your mother. No it's... it's mom's book of spells-" she hurries along when she sees him open his mouth with a frown, "- I know you don't believe Shane, but just think of it like a charm. You don't need to use it... she just was worried about you."

After a moment he sighs, "Shouldn't you take it, mom? It was your mom's..." but already she shaking her head.

"I already made mine, you don't have one. She wanted you to have her spells, just in case. Ok? Just keep it to remember her by."

".... alright mom. To remember babcia."

With a less wet smile, she kisses his cheek one last time, "Thank you, Shane. Thank you."

\--

Shane will blame grief if pressed. As he sits on the plane, carefully reading his babcia's written Polish. It's one of the few things he has of her, and it's nice to see her writing.

Ambient chatter and snores fill the air as Shane reads, his eyes taking in the carefully written steps of his babcia's "spells" and the like. However he pauses as he turns the page to a familiar sketch and charm.

" _Urok Podróżny_ " the page reads, a charm for travel. Without active thought his hand goes to the same charm hanging around his neck, his eyes taking in the details of the make up.

According to babcia, the un-dyed wool was to give comfort and warmth. To keep one tied to home. While the stick it was wrapped around in it's little glass vial, was to keep the wearer strong. To always point them to their destination.

While, again, a whole bunch of bull shit, Shane could appreciate the sentiment behind the gift. Humming, hid eyes skipped to the bottom of the page, and he had to pause.

" _Dostawny:_ " the list began, bringing a frown to his face. "Extra....? What else could a glass vial be, babcia?"

From what he could gather, the intent seemed to be that if the user held the charm in their hand and concentrated, supposedly it would point them to what they wanted. Muttering to himself, he fiddled with his charm, "That's ridiculous. There's no way...."

Part of him almost takes his charm off. Part of him, the small child part that sat at his babcia's feet and listened to her stories, wants the charm to point to his goal.

But the him that he is now, the Shane sitting in the plane, tucks the charm back under his shirt and puts the book in his carryon. And he leans back and sleeps for the rest of his flight. Ignoring any sort of tug he feels at his eyes or heart.

\--

Shane is unsure if he can continue blaming grief at this point. Sure grief can make you do crazy things. Quit your job, cut your hair, get a tattoo impulsively, pay too much money for mediums to pretend to tell you what your lost one has to say to you.

Shane hasn't done any of this, he's not insane. But he is currently sitting cross legged on his floor, reading his babcia's spell book in a circle of chalk with another larger circle of chalk across from him.

So, again, he doesn't think he can blame grief on this one. He's going to, if anyone finds out, but he doesn't think he can get away with this one. Sure he's pretty drunk right now. But it wasn't Drunk Shane that went out and bought a carton if white chalk. And it wasn't Drunk Shane that bought ten mismatched red candles from the dollar store that now sit along the edge of the larger chalk circle.

No that was all Grieving Sober Shane that got it into his head that maybe if he used one of the spells he could maybe possibly see his babcia again.

The spell's name was simple " _Zwołać Dola_."

"Summon Fate."

Or rather, Summon Fate, or Destiny, or Fortune, or even Portion. Sometimes it was hard to translate slavic languages to english, but he had gotten the idea of it.

The description had been as poetic as it could be. Talking of greatest desire, and need. About fate in the abstract, and what is destined to the caster. And the small child part of Shane had cried out and burst forth, calling for his babcia.

So that's why he was here, having just pushed his furniture around had sketched some intricate pattern in a circle on his floor. And was now reading off an inscription in Polish.

Part of him is disappointed when nothing shakes or bangs, the lights of the candles don't flicker wildly. Of course nothing would happen, he read a nonsense sentence in Polish and thought, what? He babcia's spirit would appear and tell him she loves him one last time?

As he sighs and looks up from the book, he freezes once his lands on a person sitting in the other circle. Who looked just as surprised as Shane felt.

“Who…. How the fuck did you get into my apartment?” Shane frowns at the other man. He was tan, dark black hair matched with warm brown eyes. And one of the more attractive guys Shane had seen in a minute. Though, he was a handsome guy who had just apparently broke into his home.

The man’s brow furrows, “’How did I’? Are you serious, dude? You just summoned me out of nowhere.” He crosses his arms, “What, is this your first spell or something? Kind of a big one, huh?”

Shane laughs, hoping the alcohol in his system could keep any hysteria at bay, “No no, that would require magic to be real. So, yea, I get it. I have some circle on the ground, I caught you sneaking in, gotta pretend you’ve been summoned or something right?”

The man’s face falls, “You’re kidding me. You’re a fucking witch and you don’t believe in magic. Why the fuck did you even do a summoning then, dude?!”

There are a lot of things Shane could say then. He could honestly just stand up and pick up the other man, and drop him on his door step. But instead he took a deep steadying breath, closing his eyes, “To start with, I’m not a witch. I don’t believe in that shit. That was all my mom and aunts and babcia.” Opening his eyes, he looks back at the man, “Second, I don’t have to answer that.”

“Oh shut up, string bean. You’re the one that dragged me away from my dinner, so I think I deserve some answers. Especially if you’re ‘not a witch’ like you say.”

“… The book said ‘summon your desire.’ My desire is to see my babcia one more time. Drunk brain figured I might get to see her again if there’s anything to this shit.” Shane groaned as he brought his fingers up to his temples, he could feel himself coming down from his drunken state, and the pain wasn’t pretty.

But it did look like something clicked in the other man’s eyes, “Ok, ok I see what happened here. You translated or someone translated wrong or something. Yea this is about desire, but it’s more… What’s the language you read this in?”

“… Polish.”

“Ok yea, it’s more along the lines of uhm… ugh, my Polish is a little rusty? It’s more _pragnienie_ than _życzenie_. Does that make sense? What was it labeled as?”

Shane shook his head, standing up suddenly, “No. No I’m not entertaining this. You’re saying, what? That you’re a fucking _perelesnyk_? Well I have some news for you buddy, I’m not some grieving widow. You can’t exactly look like my dead husband and seduce me.” Briskly, he walks out of the chalk circle, heading for his medicine cabinet and pain killers.

As he closes the mirror, the man is suddenly there holding babcia’s book, frowning, “Ok so, I can see where you got tripped up. Your… grandmother, yea? She wrote ‘ _Dola_ ’ instead of ‘ _Dolya_.’ Probably a dialect thing.”

Shane groaned as he stalked away, ignoring how the man followed him. “And what’s the difference? They both mean fate.”

The man rolls his eyes at him as he shuts the book, “Well one’s a concept, and the other’s one of the dual goddesses. Dolya and Nedolya? Surely you know about them. Especially if this is your grandmother’s book.”

Shane huffs through his teeth as he braces himself on the kitchen counter, “Hey, asshole? Get the fuck out of my apartment why don’t you?”

After hearing no more words, and only the thunk of a heavy book behind him, Shane turns around to finally find his apartment at peace once again. Hopefully never to see whoever the fuck that was again.

\--

Of course within a week, the man is there at Shane’s job at Buzzfeed, sitting at the desk next to him. He’s smiling like he just met him, hand out stretched as he says, “Ryan Bergara, it’s nice to meet you….?”

Shane keeps down his annoyed huff as he shakes Ryan’s hand, “…. Shane Madej, it’s good to meet you, Ryan.”

Ryan hums as he sits down, his grin turning proud when only Shane can see it. Shane drops down into his seat, glaring at the man.

“Why the fuck are you following me? First you break into my house and now you’re at my job? What type of psychopath are you!?” His whisper is harsh, but he doesn’t need their other neighbors to hear him.

Ryan hissed back, though he still wore a grin, “I’m still bound to you. Because you don’t know what you did with that spell. So I guess I’m going to get you to finally understand and maybe then I can actually fulfill my end of this whole mess.” Ryan paused before adding lightly, “Oh and I’ve worked here for a while. I just poked in the right places to get Brent’s old spot since it’s near you.”  
As Shane gaped at the man, he continued, “And since Brent’s transferring, I need a good ol’ skeptic to take up his spot as my co-host on Unsolved. As luck would have it, I told our bosses about how into the idea you were! So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Shane Madej.”

Shane’s mouth snapped up as his eyes narrowed. Of course he had heard about that “are ghosts real” series in the works, but had written it off as it was, again, a bunch of bullshit. Thinly he sighed, “Fine, but if we’re doing this? Not just ghosts and bullshit. Or I’ll go fucking crazy.”

Ryan’s grin could be the picture definition of shit-eating in that moment, “I can accept these terms.”

\--

After several months of doing Unsolved, and inevitably The Test Friends, and various other miscellaneous videos, Shane has to admit he enjoys Ryan’s presence in his life. Despite him breaking into his home, and his never ending insistence in trying to get Shane to believe in ghosts and shit.

Ryan still sometimes just was in Shane’s apartment, like it was a thing to do. Like today, there he was sitting on Shane’s couch and reading his babcia’s book. Again.  
Groaning, Shane shrugs off his bag giving his friend a tired look, “Have you heard of not breaking into my home, Ry?”

Ryan just flips a page, snuggling further into the couch, “It’s not my fault you keep leaving the door open.”

“I explicitly, do not, Ry!” He motions behind him, “I added a third fucking lock. How is the door open!?”

Ryan’s sigh absently reminds Shane of every elementary school teacher that had him, before the other man kicks up a corner of the carpet and motions to the chalk lines that still rest there. “You never closed the door, dude. It’s like an instant ‘Hm I wanna bug Shane’ portal for me.”

The taller man just groans as he walks into his kitchen to get a beer, coming back and shoving Ryan’s feet aside so he can sit down, “Yea, yea. Sure. One day you’ll show me the fucked up window you crawl in through.”

Shane can feel Ryan’s glare even as he doesn’t look at him. His voice is full of annoyance as he speaks, “Can I at least tell you what I am, finally? So you’ll stop calling me random shit.”  
“Can’t promise I’ll stop, but sure go ahead. I’ll humor you buddy.”

Ryan kicks him, lightly but it’s still a kick, before he continues, “So, did your grandmother ever tell you about the _perelesnyk_?”

“Yeesss? The thing I called you when you first showed up in my home? They show up as lost loved ones and trick new widows. What about them?”

“Well you see-“

“I swear to god, Ryan, if you do your fucking theory voice right now, I’m going to burn down this entire complex.”

Ryan’s laugh was familiar and helped bring Shane’s edges down as the shorter man continued, “Fine fine. My point is, that’s just the word and method that worked best for most Slavic countries, you know? People were always losing loved ones to wars and cold winters and shit, so were usually willing not to question if their lost loved one showed up. But we’ve got different names from all over the world, the catch is usually desire and a deep want of some sort. Be it companionship or lust or whatever.”

Shane’s eyebrows narrowed at the man, “Ryan are you trying to say you’re a fucking incubus.”

“More or less? Yea pretty much, dude."


	2. Transakcja

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane doesn't talk to Ryan for a week. Sure they speek but they don't talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so uh... my bad. I wanted to update back like the week after I first published. But then work and depression hit my like a brick truck. I'm better now but it was A Time. 
> 
> Chapter title SHOULD mean 'bargain'
> 
> Latter in this chapter, Ryan explains how his whole incubus thing works. I just wanted to say I obviously took some liberties with how creatures work so they would fit into the world I'm making. Specifically shinigami from Japan and acalica from Latino mythology. I mean no disrespect, but I wanted to also pay my respect to Ryan's own cultural heritage even with the focus of this fic being on Shane's. If I went too far (I doubt I did, it's very minor but I like to cover my bases) please let me know and I'll be happy to work out a better way to handle it.

Shane doesn't talk to Ryan for a week.

Well, he talks to him, but nothing of substance. Just benign things he'd say to anyone, and would quickly leave when that wouldn't hold up amymore. 

Which is what he's currently doing, avoiding his desk in the last hour of his friday at work, hiding at Sara's desk. The way she's looking at him says he only has so much time before he has to tell her why he's avoiding the other man.

"So..." maybe he was wrong bout how much time he actually had, "you gonna tell me why you're avoiding Ryan like he personally is spreading the bubonic plague?"

"Isn't that a bit exagerated, Sara? I'm not quarentining him and burning the house down afterall."

"Uh-huh. Assuming you'd do it like Milan."

"Well it was either that or how Poland or the rest of Europe handled it, and they were far less dramatic about it." Shane hummed, hopefully vamping with Sara would keep her at bay.

"Fine, but why are you avoiding him? I can feel his sad puppy aura from over here." 

He had to pause, chewing his lip before beginning slowly, "He... said something last week, that pissed me off. And I'm pretty sure he just said it to do that."

"What'd he say that was so bad? Did he say that Wojtek wasn't cute?"

"No no, even he admits it now that he is... no it's... ugh, he said something that made it seem like he was making fun of me and my family... I guess?"

Sara frowned, "Not gonna say what it was?"

"Nope."

Sighing, she continued, "Have you ever known Ryan to do something malicious like that? Seriously, if he said something... don't you think he meant what he said?"

After a long pause, Shane sighed as he pulled out his phone, "Yea ok, sure. I'll talk to him."

\--

Shane texts him eventually, still hiding at Sara's desk. It's simple, to the point, ' _come to my place tonight. I'm ready to talk_.' 

Ryan's reply isn't instant, though he didn't expect it to be. Knowing his friend, he probably agonized for the entire time over the appropriate response. Before settling on a simple ' _I'll be there_.'

Which leaves Shane where he is now, sitting in his apartment and trying to deny his anxiety as he waits for Ryan. Usually, Ryan was just there when he invited him over, lounging on his couch or eating his food. This whole waiting thing was an unwelcome development in their relationship.

He can't help as he jumps upon hearing the door bell ring, staring at it wide eyed in shock and confusion. In all the time he had known him, Ryan had never come in the front door unless Shane himself had brought Ryan over. Hesitantly, he stood and went to open the door. 

"About time, dude. I was startimg to think you were gonna leave me out there to catch something." Ryan grinned, as if they hadn't missed a week of talking and hanging out. He pushes past Shane as he made his way in, casual attitude only betrayed by his tense shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, Shane closes the door and turns to his friend, "OK, let's cut to the point ok? I'm... willing to listen now." At Ryan's stare, Shane can't help the groan that escapes him as he rubs the back of his head, "About the whole... incubus thing. And magic, and just... ugh, I'm sorry I kicked you out. Can we just talk now?"

When Shane looks back at Ryan, having realized his nerves made him look away to begin with, he sees the other man tapping at his phone. Huffing, Shane stalks over, "I spill my guts and you're, what? Texting?"

Looking back up at the taller man, Ryan grins, "Nah just needed a video of you apologizing. Gotta have proof of the paranormal you know?" The grin turned shit eatting. And Shane wanted to cry, or throttle him, or just laugh until he couldn't breath because they'd be  _ok_ , and Shane hand't ruined one of his most solid relationships in years. 

Eventually they get to the sofa, Shane sitting with Ryan lounged out with his legs on the taller man's lap. After a deep breath, Ryan begins, "Ok so, both of my parents are the same as me. The... people who are part of it all, they call us Energy eatters. A lot of myths, they're just talking about different ones who had different tastes. Like.... like eggs, people like to eat eggs in differeny ways-"

"Eggs, Ryan!? Of all foods?"

"Well what other food do people eat in a bunch of different ways?!"

"Well first off have you seen a single episode of Worth It?!"

"I was on and episode-!"

"Secondly, potatoes! People eat potatoes in multitudes of ways-!"

"Of course the slav would go on about potatoes!"

"Excuse you! You're just saying that because you never got to have my babcia's home made  _pierogi_. Those take a lot of work." Shaking his head, Shane quickly holds up his hands, "We're getting off topic. Let's go with a common ground, boysenberry."

Ryan seems to ponder it before nodding, "I do love boysenberry. Ok, so we like energy in different ways, like how boysenberry comes in different ways. So like, ok succubi and incubi, like to get energy through sex. Vampires? Blood. _P_ _erelesnyk_? Weirdly enough, emotion? It's hard to explain. But anyway, my parents... well my mom is a type of  _shinigami_? A reaper? But it's more she likes the left over energy from souls, or the excess emotional energy from funerals. My dad's kinda like an  _acalica_. He likes the energy made from weather and nature, so like hurricanes, thunder storms, earth quakes."

After a moment of silence Shane slowly asks, "And you? What's your prefered way to take your energy?"

Ryan squirms for a second, "Er... accomplishment? Joy? I really like the excess energy from when someone feels like they did a real good job? Honestly it's not like... water or food for us, sure some people overindulge... but it's more like a snack or a favorite meal you have here and there. It doesn't replace eatting food or drinking water."

"And how do you know enough Polish to read my babcia's book?"

"Oh, uh. Learned it? When I got really into slavik mythology for awhile. I, uh, pirated Rosetta Stone to learn... and kinda kept it up?"

Shane couldn't help a laugh, "Pirating, Ryan? For shame!"

"Hey! It costs like $200 for just one language! I'm valid in this!"

"And the... poofing into my apartment?"

"Like I said, you left the portal open. It's tied to my enegry, but don't worry it'll only let me in that way. You were surprisingly accurate with your protection runes."

The silence that falls is comfortable, familiar. A lost weight Shane had missed this last week. He had missed Ryan's overzealous presence, as well as how calming he could be in instances like this. He had missed his best friend.

After a moment he let out a slow sigh, "What does this make me? This whole... thing?"

Ryan looked at him for a minute before biting his lip, "Well... you're a witch dude. You don't have to do anything with that knowledge, but it's the truth."

Shane groaned, "Ughhh... I had hoped that was still my Mom's problem, not mine."

"Well you don't need to do anything about it-"

"No no, fuck that. If I'm some shitty witch, then I'm gonna be the world's okayist shitty witch."

Lauging, Ryan grins at him once again, "Not the greatest?"

"Nah, then people would be like 'There goes Shane Madej! The witch!' I'd have to go into hiding from the shame, Ryan!" When did Ryan's laughter start to feel like a balm of peace on Shane's mind? Shane's not sure but he blames the week of absence. 

\--

They spend the rest of the night talking over logistics of magic, Ryan's prefered people in the office for some good ol' joy eatting ( _the Try Guys surprisingly Ryan says, shrugging helplessly. They always seem like their successes are the biggest in the world. It's pretty filling_ ), and the upcoming season of Unsolved and the epic that is the Hotdoga. Near 11, Ryan eventually stands, stretching, "Well I should get home. I'm beat from all this talking and work."

Standing, Shane smirks, "Not gonna poof away?"

"Nah, I still drove here dude. Gotta get my car home."

At the door, Shane leans against the door way, laughing as Ryan turns back, looking him over, ".... Thanks, Shane... for hearing me out."

Shane rubs the back of his neck, "I'm just glad we're talking again, this last week was torture of my own making."

"It was all your fault." Ryan's grin falters for a second, as he stares up at Shane before he-

Lightly kisses Shane on the lips-

And then runs away, calling over his shoulder, "See you!"

Leaving Shane standing there, touching his lips, staring after him, eyes wide. So that's why he had missed Ryan so much-

"Ryan Bergara, get back here-!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pierogi ruski - potato dumplings  
> Shinigami - Japanese reapers  
> Acalica - Blovian creatures that control the weather, usually live underground and look like wizened old men
> 
> Dam dam hopefully that makes up for the wait

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> perelesnyk - Spirits of seduction in east slavic stories, usually appear as deceased loved ones in order to tempt grieving widows.  
> Dolya and Nedolya - the dual goddesses of fate of East Slavs and Russia, Dolya is positive fate and Nedolya is negative fate for laymen's terms  
> Pragnienie - desire, thirst, wish, craving  
> życzenie - Wish, desire
> 
> I'll hopefully finish the next part soon, when the writing bug bites me once again. But I work full time so sometimes it's a choice between sleep or work ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
